


One More Day (Missing You)

by mystery_deer



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad Decisions, Cheating, Hurt No Comfort, I mean it's definitely there but this is not a sexy fic, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Oral Sex, no romance between kevin and jake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22260802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystery_deer/pseuds/mystery_deer
Summary: "Kevin and Jake have sex in the safe house" but with 98% more relationship turmoil
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Kevin Cozner/Jake Peralta, Kevin Cozner/Ray Holt
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	One More Day (Missing You)

Jake laid on the ground in the half-asleep state he’d started slipping into after he’d exhausted every means of fun or interest the house had to offer and the only thing left to mine enjoyment out of was the dreams.

He was aware of his body in the distant way he was aware that it was morning, noon or night without experiencing the change of day himself.

If he had been a night owl before he was doubly so now as it was the only time he wasn’t in constant fear of being seen, of getting himself and Kevin killed. He knew Kevin felt the same way though he was obviously a morning person and Jake had had to struggle to stay asleep through him walking/crawling around at ludicrous hours those first few weeks. 

(“8 am is not ludicrous hours. You normally begin work at 10.”  
“Yeah in theory.”)

These days the mornings were usually spent in heavy silence, pregnant pauses that broke the blissful moment that the windows’ glass showed only their reflections and the blinds could be drawn. Sometimes the entire day was wasted in silence depending on how much Kevin was willing to tolerate his presence. 

He wished Boyle was here. Even when they were fighting they were at least fighting.

He wished Amy was here.

“Were here.” She said and Jake startled slightly, the milk in his cereal sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the bowl. 

“Huh?” He whispered, dazed.

“You wish Amy were here.” Kevin said, watching the cereal with equal parts intrigue and disgust.

Jake opened his eyes with a start, unsure if that was a memory or a dream. It was dark and the only light came from the faux fireplace which was deemed safe, only illuminating things enough to see their shadows. 

Kevin was sleeping with his back to him. He stared at it, listening to his breathing. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine it was Amy here with him.

“You put honey on it!” Amy said happily as Jake ate his pancakes in their breakfast nook (he felt very privileged and fancy to be dating someone with a breakfast nook)

“Only because you basically forced me to.” He grinned.  
“I did not!” She argued, smile bending her words cheerfully. 

“You sent me a ten-page essay on why I should put honey on my pancakes instead of syrup. That should be a crime. I should be arresting you right now.”

“Well, I obviously made some good points. And it was double-sided! Ten pages double-sided is nothing. A baby could write that.”

“Oh no I didn’t read it. In fact, I’m only eating this to avoid reading it.” Amy rolled her eyes and kissed him but he could feel her smile on his. It wasn’t a good kiss because of the smiling and laughing but it fed a white, gentle warmth that had begun after he’d met her and continued to grow each day they were together.

“Peralta.” Kevin said. “It’s morning.”

Kevin hated the mornings here. There was no reason to get up early as there was nothing to do except occasionally make Peralta breakfast so he wouldn’t keel over from malnutrition. 

(“What do you want from the store?” Raymond had asked, taking out his checkbook.  
“Gummy bears, Haribo. Not Black Forest!” Jake demanded. Kevin rolled his eyes.  
“Yes and after that maybe some real food...and wine. The biggest bottle you can carry.”)

Kevin poured himself a glass from what he suspected was not the biggest bottle Raymond could carry and began opening blinds at random to appear more ‘natural’ as he’d been instructed to - though he didn’t think any ne'er-do-well would take the time to consider such things.

He pictured two (frankly cartoonish) looking villains staring discerningly up at the house. One man said “Do you think this is it boss?” and the other shook his head.  
“How could it be? The blinds change at random!”  
It wasn’t a good sign that he’d lapsed into bad New Yorker caption contest scenarios. He missed Raymond. He was sure he would be able to come up with a fantastic ‘blind leading the blind’ joke. 

He missed Raymond.

He focused on missing Cheddar and work and books that weren’t half-blank to make the shelves look more realistic even though if anyone who didn’t know it was a safe house were to enter Kevin sincerely doubted they would be convinced by the bookshelves.

“This can’t be the right place!” One goon would say. “They have books for chrissake!”

He decided to make breakfast for himself and Jake. The poor man seemed to always be either aggressively cheerful or concerningly despondent. He had spent the entire day yesterday lying on the floor of what was charitably called their bedroom, occasionally mumbling about honey. He must miss Santiago.

He looked past the Eggo waffles Jake had insisted Raymond purchase and instead began making batter. Dry ingredients in one bowl, wet ingredients in another. He knew the recipe like he knew the front of Raymond’s hand. The smooth skin, the lines and where they led, how he tensed when Kevin’s finger traced words onto his palm as he tried not to laugh.

“Peralta.” Kevin said, not needing to raise his voice to be heard. “It’s morning.”

He wondered why he missed Raymond so much when he was here so often. Even when not physically here his presence was felt. The entire house felt like Raymond had built it. Just for him.

A spark of rage flared up inside him and was immediately smothered. No, he wasn’t doing this to hurt him. It was to protect him.

He was sure it felt very good to be able to claim that every stranglehold on his freedom was for his own good, every misery for his protection. He was sure Raymond told himself that before he went to bed in their house - their home in a bed in a room that didn’t smell like cheese and coffee or air freshener. He was sure he lulled himself to sleep at night thinking Kevin was being silly and argumentative for no reason, maybe he was. 

Maybe he was...he just needed to hang on for a little bit longer.  
Just a little bit longer.   
One day at a time.

But one day at a time had turned into a month with no sign of it not turning into two.  
If he was being honest with himself, one day at a time had started much longer ago.

One day at a time started with a call he’d gotten saying that Raymond had gone missing and refusing to answer his questions or pleas and then Detective Santiago knocking on his door, knocking and shouting for a full ten minutes until he managed to let her in and then she was in his arms - for a moment losing herself. “Witsec.” She cried, he couldn’t tell if in anger or sadness but grief, definitely grief. “They’re not dead they’re in witsec.” She told him and one day at a time started there.

“You’re making waffles? We have waffles right here.” Jake said, voice groggy from sleep but chipper. It was a good day.

“I’ve never seen someone so staunchly against a home-cooked meal.”   
“I’ve never seen someone so thoroughly against the convenience of an instant one!” Jake repeated in a voice that Kevin assumed was supposed to be his but was for some reason badly British.

Moments like these were the only ones both men enjoyed their time in the safehouse, precisely because they could forget they were in it. It was bright and sunny out which translated into lots of light even in the away-from-eyesight corners they often occupied during the day. The kitchen was bright and alive. 

“Can I crack the eggs?” Jake asked, feeling in the way.

“Yes. You can handle the wet ingredients.” Kevin said. Jake thought ruefully that he was probably the kind of despicable person who told children that there were plenty of chores to do when they made the mistake of being bored in his presence. He felt sorry for Cagney and Lacey.

“Fine.” He said, grabbing the milk. “But tonight I’m being the black side because it gives more of a cool antihero vibe!”

“Neither side has...fine.” Kevin acquiesced, deciding to pick his battles. “But don’t drag me into your made up stories this time.” 

When night fell the home came alive in the most mundane ways. They walked instead of crawled, spoke at a normal volume and could sit at the dining room table which was dreaded in the daytime as it was surrounded by windows. They became as human as they could be when they were locked away.

They played chess as a flimsy excuse to talk.

“You wouldn’t get it.” Jake said, moving his pawn. “Holt visits us like every week...or day? I can’t tell time anymore.” Kevin hummed softly in neither agreement or disagreement. 

Jake tried not to think of Amy. If he thought about Amy he’d cry and if he cried Kevin would have to try to comfort him and then they’d both have to suffer through that.

“He consistently visits weekly but sometimes drops by on random days to ensure that we are not straying from protocol.” Kevin revealed, stomach turning at the word. Jake scoffed half-heartedly and he could tell he felt the same.

“Protocol, yeah. Remember when we woke up and he was just...standing between us?”

“Yes. Vividly.”

Kevin had opened his eyes to see a man standing above him. Jake was screaming and he was too, he must have been screaming but his heart was racing so fast hewasgoingtodie he couldn’t hear anything but blood as he leapt forward, hewasgoingtodiehere fist aimed towards the assailant’s throat. It was promptly caught by Raymond - just Raymond just…

His body sagged as adrenaline left him, Raymond still held his fist as he peered down at his shaking body.

“You forgot to close the back window. The curtains are drawn but the window is wide open.” He said to the both of them.

Kevin no longer looked forward to Raymond’s visits. He kept that secret close, hid it even from himself at times. Shame, guilt and anger churned themselves together in his throat whenever it surfaced. 

“Kevin, what should I bring next time?” Raymond had asked a few days ago in a moment of solitude with Peralta in the bathroom. Instead of feeling relieved to be alone with his husband he felt on edge, he felt as if he would burst. He wanted to grab him, to kiss him to hold him to sob into that familiar collar that he wanted to go home please take me home Raymond I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep waiting for tomorrow to be better.

“Oranges.” He said, squeezing his hands together.

He’d started having dreams where Raymond would rush into the house and exclaim that Seamus and his men were all miraculously dead! Isn’t that wonderful? We can go home, we can go home finally finally free!

He knew Peralta had similar dreams. He spoke in his sleep, usually nonsense or half-sentences but recently it was “Ames ames ames…” either smiling or frowning. A haunting chant that echoed through the almost-empty shell of a house. “Ames ames ames ames…” broken and wanting.

Kevin had stayed awake many-a-night, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Second by second he would be able to see more clearly, he just had to wait. Soon the sun would rise he’d be able to see everything effortlessly.

Jake sighed, looking at Kevin whose face remained as unreadable as ever. The only emotion he ever revealed was annoyance. “But you see? You wouldn’t…” He paused, trying not to step on any toes. As much as he hated the regular silence it was better than angry silence. “I’ve only seen Amy...once? In how long? It’s crazy like - we used to see each other every day all day”

He remembered getting up in the morning, getting ready with her. Watching her comb the shininess into her hair. He hated the morning but with her he could stand it, look forward to waking up and seeing her there beside him. A lump formed in his throat and his eyes began to burn.

“It feels weird. Like my right arm’s missing.” Jake said, voice low and soft and Kevin felt his heart began to ache.

“Yes...I understand.” He said, placing a hand on Peralta’s which he’d laid out on the table. “More than you think.”

It happened so fast after that.

Neither of them remembered who initiated it, who had kissed who but they were kissing suddenly and the chess board had been callously brushed to the side with a clatter of pieces falling to the ground or rolling to the edge of the table. 

Jake moaned softly as Kevin’s hand tangled itself in his curls. They were both occupying the same chair, bodies pressed together in a way that was exhilarating after so long without any kind of contact.

Kevin pulled away with a quick jerking motion and they stared at each other for a beat, hearts pounding with blood and excitement and the knowledge that this was wrong wrong wrong on so many levels.

“I’m not-”  
“I don’t-” They started. They stopped. They leaned in and kissed again, the air slowly heating up. Jake remembered that once Amy had forgotten to take off her giant stupid cute glasses during sex and they’d fogged up. His heart ached. 

It was the same ache he’d felt in Florida, being so far away from her and not knowing when he’d be able to come back - if he’d ever be able to come back. The knowledge he might never see her again had thrown him so deep into depression that Holt had had to literally drag him out of bed some days-  
Holt.

God.  
He was kissing Holt’s husband. 

His hands snaked up Kevin’s shirt instinctively and felt his chest. Smooth and soft with a bit of hair. It was warmer than the rest of his body and he could feel his heartbeat as his back arched. 

“Your hand is cold.” Kevin said, breath labored and Jake felt a spark of pride before immediately feeling bad about it. “Stop that.”

“What?”  
“That look, as if you’ve done something...terrible.”  
“How is this not terrible?”  
“Everything...is...terrible.” Kevin said eloquently. They were in the safe house again, the walls oppressive and safe and terrible. 

“I just. I don’t want to break you and the Captain up-” Kevin snorted derisively and Jake shook his head in disbelief.

“With that kissing?” Kevin asked. Jake’s mouth opened in shock, Kevin thought that only happened in cartoons.  
“Are you seriously negging me!?” He cried. 

“That wasn’t negging. It was just an insult, have you ever been negged? Obviously not.”  
“There’s nothing to neg me about because I’m super hot.” Kevin raised an eyebrow.  
“Is that so?” Jake rolled his eyes.

“God you and Holt are perfect for each other.” He said without thinking. He regretted it immediately.

Everything stopped for a moment. Kevin finally let out a shaky sigh and Jake apologized softly.  
“There’s no need to apologize.”  
“I shouldn’t have brought up-”

“I said.” Kevin insisted, straightening into the strict and unsmiling man Jake knew him to be. “There’s no need.”

“Cool cool cool yeah cool right no need totally.” Jake breathed, mouth agape as Kevin pulled his head back by his hair. 

There was a tense moment of silence, they could each feel the other’s arousal. Kevin made a noise and Jake realized they were going to be locked in a forever stalemate and he needed to call this off, he needed to...they both needed to think about anything but Kevin’s boner and sexy in-charge voice and

And uh

God it was hard to think about anything but that.

“You’re lonely right?” He said and Kevin jerked a bit at his voice as if shocked out of a stupor. “We’re both...uh..just...we can have this right? Just this?”

Kevin looked down at Peralta - Jake...ob….Peralta. (If you can’t call the man by his first name you shouldn’t sleep with him, he screamed at himself.) He was handsome in a needy, bright way that he hadn’t ever found himself particularly attracted to. He wasn’t even particularly attracted to it now. He had always preferred men who at least gave the appearance of knowing what they were doing. He thought of Raymond and his heart ached, heavy with missing him and misery and he wanted so badly for anything anything to make him feel a little bit human again.

He’d been aching, wanting him for so long. He remembered the first night Raymond had gotten back from Florida he’d excused himself to the bathroom, ran the faucet and sobbed so hard he’d gotten a headache because the pain hadn’t dissipated. He still felt they were so far apart.

“It might be tough at first since it’s been so long.” The official had told him as she’d tried to keep up with Kevin’s speedwalk towards Raymond’s hospital room.   
“But you just have to take it one day at a time and eventually everything will be back to normal.” She’d promised.

Kevin looked into Peralta’s wide, soft eyes. Asking permission, looking to him. He closed his own eyes, he didn’t want to see himself reflected in them.

“Yes.” He kissed the detective again, short and reassuring. “Just this.”

Peralta’s body relaxed under him and they nearly fell over. “We gotta get outta this chair.” Kevin cringed at the grammar and honestly debated just calling the whole thing off and he would have absolutely done that if not for the soul crushing loneliness.

“Yes.”

“So, are we...like…” Jake asked unhelpfully. They were both as in bed as they could be when their beds were just sleeping bags on top of mattresses on the floor. Kevin raised an eyebrow. “You know.” He made a crude hand gesture.

“No, we’re not having penetrative sex.”  
“Way to suck the fun out of everything.” Kevin considered making a joke about that but decided against it. Peralta might enjoy the knowledge that he had a sense of humor too much.

“You’re not prepared. You’ve never had anal sex.” He paused, a smile creeping up his face. “Oh unless...you thought? Ha. HaHA you thought you would penetrate me?”

“The laughing is super uncalled for.” He didn’t think he’d ever heard Kevin laugh and he stored the memory of his captain’s husband’s stilted bad cute laugh away forever. God, he was the worst person on earth. 

He pictured Captain Holt staring him down, eyes fierce and filled to the brim with love for the man in front of him now. The man he was going to sleep with. He remembered a day in Florida where he’d been crying on the back porch and Holt had started walking around his backyard, talking loudly to no one in order to let him know he was seen.

“Do you ever miss Kevin?” He’d asked once, staring at the ceiling of his basement that was decorated in furniture he hated.

“Every day.” He said and the simplicity of the statement held so much emotion in it that he hadn’t ever asked again.

He couldn’t picture Amy, he just couldn’t. He’d go crazy if he pictured her right now.

“This isn’t about any attraction to you.” Kevin said, pulling him back to the present. “It’s about...warmth. Another body. Do you understand?”

He did. When they’d kissed all of a sudden like that it was as if he’d come back into his body after a long absence. He felt real for the first time in weeks and with that he’d remembered why he’d abandoned himself in the first place. 

The constant undercurrent of Amyamyamyamy beneath all the other horrible depression-thoughts he had was torturous. The house, the entire situation was torturous and he needed it to stop even for just a moment. 

“Yeah.” He said, undressing. “I do.”

Kevin knelt between Peralta’s legs, hand working its way up and down his slowly hardening cock.   
“Close your eyes.” He’d instructed him. “Relax.”

He’d listened to him, closing his eyes and pretending it was Amy there. His hand felt nothing like hers but if he remembered other times - if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it was her. That they were together again.

“Fuck…” He breathed as Kevin’s mouth replaced his hand. He hadn’t touched himself at all since coming into the safehouse and he had to struggle to keep himself from grabbing the other man’s head and fucking into that warmth.

Mouths were harder to differentiate when you closed your eyes and let your imagination take over. 

Kevin slowly took the length of Peralta, he was nothing like his husband. He kept his eyes closed anyway.

He fought through the endless litany of knock pause knock knock pause knock pause pause knock knock knock pause knock codes until he was back in the safehouse. Back when it was still new, when he’d trusted that the stay would be short. Just another road bump.

“We haven’t gotten to spend much time together lately.” He’d said, holding back from saying everything else.

“I know.” Raymond had replied, he was sorry. He didn’t even have to say the words for Kevin to know that he was. 

When had it stopped being enough?

“How long do you think this will be?”   
“It’s...difficult to say.”  
“Ah.”

A moment of silence, neither looked at the other. 

“I’m doing this to protect you Kevin, do you know that?” Raymond had finally asked, voice pleading as he took his hand in his. Kevin gazed down at his wide, soft eyes. Asking forgiveness, looking to him. Searching desperately for something that Kevin didn’t want discovered.

He gave him a kiss, short and reassuring. 

“Yes, I know.”  
“I love you.”  
“I love you as well.”

Kevin returned to the moment when he found Peralta had begun to make new noises. Low and throaty. His hands gripped the sheets and light was beginning to seep in under the shut blinds. Kevin’s heart quickened, he couldn’t do this in the day.

“Amy…” Peralta whispered and Kevin hummed as if in response, careful not to let his voice out. It wouldn’t do to ruin the poor man’s immersion now.

He redoubled his efforts, relaxing as he took him fully, as Peralta’s hand found its way to his head and helped him along. Peralta’s hips moved like he didn’t want them to, as if every thrust was a failure of character but eventually the dam broke and he was all movement and passion and stuttering moans.

Kevin choked a bit as Peralta came, it tasted so foreign - so wrong that he almost spit it out immediately but despite his emotional state he could never sink low enough to excuse spitting on the floor unless absolutely necessary.

He grabbed a tissue and spat there instead, wiping his mouth. He could feel Peralta staring at him.

“What.”   
“Are...you ok?” He turned to face Peralta but found he couldn’t look him in the eye when he told him he was. He hoped the man wouldn’t blame himself, he’d done nothing wrong.

It was Kevin.  
Maybe it had always been him.

“I’m going to wash up.” He said, standing before Peralta could catch his second wind and bombard him with more questions. “We’ll need to open the blinds soon.” He remarked, avoiding the spots of early blue light.

In the bathroom Kevin brushed his teeth vigorously, until the bristles bent with effort. He stopped only when the taste was gone and his mouth burned with artificial mint. He looked at himself in the mirror, flushed and disheveled. He was hard, he realized. He turned on the shower and stood under the water, he did not cry.

He missed Raymond more than ever.

In bed Jake did cry, he didn’t know what exactly for. He was a person and everything was terrible. He felt guilty and depressed and more than anything like he wanted to just take Kevin and drive to the precinct. He wanted to hold Amy. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

An hour later, exactly on schedule, the blinds were opened in a random pattern once again.

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched the episode and got stuck on Kevin threatening to divorce Holt so this came about and I'm sorry


End file.
